Coma
by SamariumAndAntiMatter
Summary: Fitz is floating somewhere in between life and death, but which way will he turn, and what will be the outcome of his choice? Fitzsimmons! T because I'm paranoid. Probably AU as of 23/09/2014.
1. Blue and Brown

**If its marvel, it sure as hell isn't mine. Warning: comes with inherent Britishness.**

Blue and Brown

Blue. All around him was blue. It was too blue, too cold. He didn't want to see blue, he wanted- needed- to see brown, to see her. It was this that kept him from slipping into the black which was starting to invade the edges of his blue world. That kept him fighting to see the brown of her, her eyes, her hair. Her skin, lightly tanned despite what he said a few months ago, but it felt like an eternity had passed. He had to keep fighting, for her. The black faded, the blue started to get paler. Pain ripped through him then, a beeping filling his head, even as white filled his eyes. After a minute or two, his eyes adjusted. He turned his head cautiously, careful not to disturb the wires and tubes he could feel trailing, over him, off him, into him. Then he saw the sight he had fought for: he saw brown, her. She was curled up in a chair at the side of his bed, an open book balanced on her knees, a stuffed monkey cradled in her arms, as she slept. He tried to speak, but he couldn't make a sound. The raw feeling in his throat was new, unfamiliar. After a few attempts he managed to croak out one word, so softly, it was barely a whisper.

"Jemma..."

She woke up, and turned to face him. On seeing he was awake, she smiled. Not the carefree, happy smile he knew and loved, but one that spoke of something deeper. It seemed to light up the whole room, and it was worth the pain just to see that smile. To see her. Brown instead of blue.


	2. Ieme La Belle

**I don't own anything, not even my own house. Enjoy.**

Ieme La Belle

Ieme la belle. Love is beautiful. Its a very odd thought isn't it? That an emotion, something without a physical form can be considered beautiful, yet, it is. Love makes the world seem more beautiful, more perfect. Love is beautiful. That's what the his watch says anyway, inscribed on the back. I found it in his bag. It is a very old pocket watch, handed down through the family from father to son. He was-is-so proud of it. I remember him telling me once about the story behind the inscription. How his great-great-grandfather had loved the inscription on the family pendant that his, Fitz's, great-great-grandmother wore, and so she gave him the watch with the inscription on the back. It will be right beside him when he wakes up. I hope he wakes up. He looks so pale. Please let him wake up. I miss him. But he looks so peaceful, just lying there. Almost as though he's asleep. I am so going to kill him when he wakes up. Why would he do that for me? Why? At least I have his monkey to remind me of him. I'll just put my book down for a sec and get forty winks.

I wake up to an odd sound. A sort of harsh grating, almost like a voice. A voice that said... My name. It said my name. I look around, rubbing sleep from my eyes. He's awake. I can't help but smile. He came back to me. I don't know whether to kill him or kiss him. But he's awake, and he remembers me. All is well.


	3. Memories

**Sorry about the length, but they just seem to work. Enjoy the angst.**

Memories

"Fitz. You're awake."

"Well, I've been beside you the whole damn time, and I'm not going to leave unless I have to."

"But you were going to. You were going to leave me all by myself." I could see that she was starting to get angry. I have no idea what she's talking about. Why would I purposefully leave her?

"Jemma, what are you talking about?"

"What do you mean, "what am I talking about?" You know exactly what I'm talking about!" She's almost yelling now, an exasperated look on her face. She looks me in the eyes. I still have no idea what she's talking about. "Don't you?" She asks, pleading. I want so badly to say yes, but I can't. I can't lie, not to her, never to her. I shake my head. Her eyes go wide. Just then the door bursts open, as a brunette dressed from head to toe in purple barrelled into the room, and threw her arms around my neck.

"Fitz! Oh my god you had us so worried," she pushed me away holding me at arms length, "don't you dare do that to us ever aga..." She trails off as she looks in my eyes. I take the opportunity to pull away. I turn to Jemma.

"Jemma, who is this person, these people?" I correct indicating the people I didn't see enter the room. The brunette stares at me. The Chinese lady behind her speaks up.

"He's lost his memories of us. All of them."


	4. He Forgot

**Really short, sorry. Simmons' thoughts. Enjoy.**

**Fitzsimmons should have happened sooner. It didn't. If I owned marvel it would have, so clearly, I don't.**

He Forgot

He forgot. I can't believe it. The moment I hear May, I blank out. I'm vaguely aware of Fitz saying something in the background, but I might as well be dreaming. He forgot. That thought keeps going round my head, deafening against the quiet hum of the others. He forgot. He forgot the team. Forgot the virus, forgot Ossetia, forgot Ward's betrayal. Forgot what he said in the crate under the ocean. He forgot. When he remembered me, when he said "the whole damn time" I was so sure he'd be okay. But he doesn't remember. He forgot telling me I was more.

I turn back to the room then, returning to reality as someone, Fitz, I think, yells my name gently taking my shoulders. I look at his face. His puzzled expression is so cute, his brows knitting together. I want to laugh, but all I can do is sob into his shoulder as he pulls me close. All I can think is how close I am to him, how I know he loves me, as I have always loved him. But he forgot.


	5. Focus

Focus

On hearing the Chinese lady's words Jemma seems to zone out.i know that there is no getting through to her when she's like this, so I turn back to the strangers in the room.

"Who are you?" I thought it was a simple enough question, but apparently I'm the only one to think so. The girl in purple just stood there and stared at me, unmoving. It was kind of creepy. Then, the slightly older man spoke up.

"You had an accident. We knew you before, but clearly you only remember Simmons. We will need to speak to your doctor about whether we can tell you anymore, as it will be up to her as to whether that would be best for your recovery." He leant forward then, and whispered something into the Chinese lady's ear. She then gently led purple girl and the other agent from the room. "I'll go and find your doctor now. You may want to see to Simmons in the mean time." He said, gesturing to Jemma, who was of in another world, rocking back and forth slightly with. A glazed look in her eye. He turned to go, but just as he reached the door, my curiosity got the better of me.

"Wait," he turned around, "why do you all look like government type agents? And why do you keep calling Jemma Simmons?"he looked at me strangely before responding.

"I need to get the doctor before I can tell you any of that, but I really do think you may need to help Sim... Jemma." Gesturing again to Jemma, who way now swaying, then left. I didn't stop him this time. I turned to Jemma taking her shoulders, gently calling her name. She startled a little, as if jerking back to reality. She sort of slumped forward into my shoulders, dissolving into tears, sobs wracking her body and she cried into my shoulder. I hated seeing like this, especially as there was nothing I could do about it. Nothing at all. All I could do was try to focus on getting my memories back. Focus on soothing Jemma. Focus.


End file.
